


How to accidentally date your best friend

by flyingisabetterwordforfalling (FlyingFalling)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Implied Relationships, M/M, Students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingFalling/pseuds/flyingisabetterwordforfalling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What ... Well, what are we doing here?", his roommate eventually whispered.<br/>"I mean ..." deep in thought he ran his fingers through the other man's hair, "... what is this?"<br/>"Us, the two of us, isn't that enough?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to accidentally date your best friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Opium_du_Peuple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opium_du_Peuple/gifts).



> I've never given Bahorel and Feuilly much though as a couple but ever since I came across a certain blog on tumblr I started thinking about them being bros as well as a couple and well, now I just like them together -either way. And I cannot believe this is my first finished Les Mis-fanfiction ever. There are so many of my headcanons in this thing, I should write more... In the meantime I hope you enjoy reading this little story. :)

With a crash, a door slammed shut, a few moments later someone thundered his fist against Feuilly's bedroom door. "Are you already awake?"

"What do you want, Bahorel?" Feuilly growled with a raised eyebrow when his roommate, still in his pajamas, took the liberty to enter the room without waiting for his permission. Almost amused said roommate examined Feuillys posture, only dressed in his underwear sitting cross-legged on his bed and drawing in his sketchbook. Around him lay crumpled drawing papers and materials.

"Are you still awake?" was the next question, this time sounding honestly distressed. Bahorel proceeded to pick up the papers and storing them on the desk.  
"It wouldn't be the first time... what are you doing?", Feuilly kept staring aghast at Bahorel when he also managed to take his pencils and brushes.

"Dude, you have been ..." Bahorel glanced at Feuillys alarm clock, "... awake for over thirty hours straight. Go to sleep."

"But the design is not yet finished and-"

"No. It doesn't matter what you have to say, the design has to wait."

"But-"

"You don't want me to force you, don't you?" Bahorel grabbed the last brush and took the sketchbook as well.

"I'd like to see you try- Bahorel no, not again!"

Feuilly's protest came too late, his roommate had already pushed him back and before Feuilly could rise again, lay down beside him. He held him tight still gentle, and put his head in the crook of the other man's throat. Feuilly snorted annoyed, but permitted Bahorel to touch him -it was not the first time.

"You cannot do this every time-"

"Hush, sleep now."

Feuilly rolled his eyes halfheartedly again, but a yawn left more protests unsaid and sleepy he snuggled up to Bahorel, who pulled the blanket over them both and also went back to sleep.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Joly was laughing so hard he had to lean on his crutch otherwise he would have fallen over, while Bossuet went red in the face up to his nonexistent hairline. Grantaire beside them gave his friends an amused glance and smirked in Enjolras' direction, who angrily glared at him and had to be downright restrained by Combeferre and Courfeyrac to make sure he did not go for his throat.

Overall, it was a relatively normal evening in their small group, except that the only one still sitting at the table now was Marius, muttering into his drink, most likely about the girl he fell in love with only hours ago. In what language he was moping now, none of them could be entirely sure.

Only Jehan, who was standing beside his chair patted him on the shoulder and was a bit timidly also muttering to themself.

Bahorel and Feuilly were the first ones who finally said goodbye to the others.

Feuilly helped Bahorel in his coat because - thanks to an unfortunate accident, the kind which would not surprise even one of them if it happened to Bossuet- he was barely able to move his shoulder. As Feuilly held the door open for him Musichetta, waitress at the Musain and for a while now shared crush of both Joly and Bossuet, approached them in a hurry.

"Guys, haven't you forgotten something?" she cried warningly, but with a smile in her voice as well as on her lips and pressed two small packets in Feuilly's hand. "I know your boss hates those days. But I got presents for all of you. Happy holidays, and Feuilly say hello to the little ones."

Feuilly smiled gratefully at her, they had met the year before during volunteer work in an orphanage where they distributed gifts for the children -the kids loved the young woman and he was glad to call her a friend. Somewhat embarrassed he accpeted her gift, after all, he had only given her a higher tip than usual without being able to get her something as expensive as she must have gotten for him and their friends.

"Thank you 'Chetta. Likewise, happy holidays. -And don't keep the boys in suspense for too long, okay?"

"Who says I keep them in suspense? I am going to spend New Year's Day with both of them. -Promise me to stay home as well. If you have to, force him to take time out, Bahorel.”, she looked at him pleadingly, took the silent exchange between the two men as an answer and wished them a nice evening, but turned around briefly and hugged them both before hurrying back into the building.

"Well, she's right." Bahorel agreed with the young waitress whilst now trying to close his coat single-handedly.  
Feuilly stepped beside him, unprompted closed the last remaining buttons, grinning at him briefly when he tugged his scarf a little more into his coat before he turned to go.

Bahorel however did not immediately follow him, but looked still smiling back at the cafe, all of them would not see each other again until the new year, and most drove either home or had other appointments, most of them were dates with their significant other or others.

"What's wrong? Are you coming, I'm cold and I want to go home."

"Home sounds good."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Bahorel, dammit, clean up!"

Downright panting with rage Feuilly had raced into his roommate's room to throw a stack of papers in his lap.

"Why do you always distribute all your junk in our entire flat? Your law books now cover the entire couch, your sticky notes are on every surface of the kitchen ... is it too much to ask for at least some sense of order?"

Bahorel smiled behind his hands and disguised it as coughing as he turned around on his desk chair to face his roommate, when Feuilly crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at him.

"After the next test I am done for a while, then you have the neatest apartment you can imagine, at least for some time. Not even Joly would freak out over it."

Despite his bad temper Feuilly could not ban this imagine from his mind or withhold the littel smile it caused.

 

A few hours later, as Feuilly returned from one of his jobs in the evening, the living room was at least cleaner than before. The only message that still stuck on the refrigerator contained the name of their favorite restaurant, their usual time and a question mark written behind it. Feuilly had to hurry to still be there in time, but Bahorel seemed to have already reserved beforehand.

"To what do I owe the honor?" he greeted his roommate, after he had been lead to their table and sat down opposite Bahorel, who indeed had been waiting for him.

"You're doing so much for others, you design flyers with Grantaire, write poems with Jehan and only a few weeks ago you drove to the airport in the middle of the night to pick Courfeyrac up, when Combeferre mentioned he could not do so himself due to a flat tyre. Although we all know that he could have taken a taxi. When I could not do anything on my own with my dislocated shoulder, you supported me more than would have been necessary. ... Before you ask, I am inviting you and I will pay. So don't you dare trying to choose something because it's cheaper. I know exactly what you like and what not. "

Feuilly grinned slightly through gritted teeth but let Bahorel order for them.

In the end, they were arguing and only when the waiter glared bitterly Bahorel managed to eventually pay without causing another argument.

"Next time I'll pay."

"Forget it, I'm a law student. I know my rights."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Feuilly stood in the kitchen, as many times as he and Bahorel had gone out to eat together in the last few months, it was a welcome change to ordering food.

At their favorite restaurant they now got the same table every time they ordered in advance. Feuilly took that as a sign to finally cook for themselves again. Moreover, neither he nor Bahorel could finance this for such a long time, no matter how many times his roommate denied this and once again found a reason to which he could invite Feuilly.

"Dinner's almost ready." Feuilly yelled across the kitchen when Bahorel stepped out of the bathroom and curiously followed the smell.

He pouted slightly when he saw that Feuilly was actually almost done, had been waiting for him and just kept the food warm.

"You asked me to help you with the recipe, I hurried you know."

Feuilly laughed as he took the pot off the stove and carried it to the dining table.

"That would only end in a debacle. In the kitchen, you're about as useful as Grantaire at Enjolras' lectures -wait, he does help him, there is just no way Enjolras would ever appreciate it." He chuckled.

Bahorel approached him, threw his towel, with which he had just been drying his hair on the back of one of the chairs, in passing, he also took Feuilly's apron and threw it at the same spot.

"The two don't count, discussions are their way of flirting. Almost setting the kitchen on fire does not mean I'm flirting."

Feuilly sighed.

"How one manages to almost set an entire kitchen on fire while melting or at least trying to melt chocolate will forever be a mystery to me..."

Bahorel blushed slightly at the tip of the nose, a situation that was extremely rare. Only his roommate knew how easily one could actually embarrass him.

"I wanted to bake a tarte for your birthday."

Bahorel scratched his head and played with his fork. "I asked 'Ferre for help, okay okay, he baked the entire thing."

Feuilly took Bahorels hand across the table, who now was visibly embarrassed.

"Don't worry, he has already told me on my birthday. It's the thought that counts."

Bahorel finally looked at him, something like relief in his eyes.

"You have known that for months-"

"How should I not know, Bahorel." Feuilly chuckled again and put his fork aside, his hand rested still on Bahorels, "We live together, in all these years either I cooked or one of us got takeout from around the corner. Or leftovers from Marius when he cooked once again too much for him and Courfeyrac. ... You're too proud to ask for help-"

"That's rich, coming from you." Bahorel muttered inbetween bites, Feuilly simply ignored him.

"-and you still swallowed your pride, asked, just to make me happy. That means a lot to me."

"...Can we change the subject?" Bahorel pulled his hand back, unable to read the slight change of the other man's expression.

For some time both of them said nothing, ate in silence.

"As long as it's for you, I would not care what I have to do, as long as you're happy." Bahorel murmured eventually, when they were already engaged in the dessert, more to himself than to Feuilly. Nevertheless, he was heard.

"Hmm? ...I'd do the same for you."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I'm late, I'm late! Feuilly, get out of the bathroom, I have to shower!"

"Then get up earlier next time!" Feuilly yelled back over the noise of the water.

"My alarm clock is broken!" Bahorel still shouted, even though he was already in the bathroom. They no longer locked the door, ever since he had dislocated his shoulder -Feuilly was the only one who actually knew the truth about him falling asleep in the shower, everybody else thought it had been a sport accident.

"I am warning you-"

But Bahorel already stood in the shower beside his roommate and reached for the shampoo bottle. Feuilly accustomed to sharing the shower merely pointed to another, Bahorel's own bottle and rolled his eyes before turning around when his roommate shampooed his hair.

He squeaked as Bahorels hands all of a sudden found their way into his own hair, shampooing it as well, then dropped down to his shoulders and gently started massaging them.

"When did your shift end this morning?" Bahorel asked casually when he squeezed the tense spots and Feuilly relaxed under his hands.

"Had to take 'Chetta's shift as well, Joly made her stay home because of her cold. Bossuet volunteered to fill in for her but most of the time he kept staring anxiously at his phone as if he expected a text from Joly telling him 'Chetta was about to die.”

"So you're back home a little longer than I'm awake?"

Feuilly nodded and allowed himself to lean into the touch.

"Weren't you in a hurry?"

"Crap." growled Bahorel instead of an answer, rinsed Feuilly's and then his own hair out and jumped right out of the shower.

"Good morning, sleep well and see you later." he shouted back as he sped past Feuilly a few minutes later, when the latter was on his way to his room to actually lie down without having to be forced to sleep. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Feuilly?"

The addressed partly turned around in his bed, Bahorels arms around his waist made it slightly difficult to move.

"Hmm?"

Bahorel looked past him, not that Feuilly would notice it in the darkness around them.

"What's wrong?" Feuilly murmured sleepily and blinked.

"What ... Well, what are we doing here?", his roommate eventually whispered.

"Trying to sleep, damn Bahorel, stop talking." grumbled Feuilly and closed his eyes again before he abruptly turned around.

However Bahorel was not keen on letting his thoughts unsaid, not now that he could finally put into words what had preoccupied his mind for a long time.

"I mean ..." deep in thought he ran his fingers through the other man's hair, "... what is this?"

"My head, hair. For the exact names you'll have to ask 'Ferre or Joly."

"Feuilly."

"Us, the two of us, isn't that enough?"

Bahorel stayed silent and Feuilly sighed, turning around again.

"Would you like me to call you my partner? I've done that for years. Do you think we should spend the nights together? We have done that for years. Do you want us to go out, have actual dates? We've gone out for years. -Do you want to make it public, at last find a solution for all legal matters and marry me? "

Bahorel pulled Feuilly even closer to his chest, and pressed a kiss into his neck.

"Did you bastard just propose to me or do you want me to propose to you?”

"Shut up and go to sleep, before I change my mind."


End file.
